


Svetlo

by Dovesummer



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, It's not exactly fluffy but sort of maybe?, M/M, POV Hannibal Lecter, but it's new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dovesummer/pseuds/Dovesummer
Summary: Hannibal stared at the ceiling, debating whether or not to get out of bed.  He knew Will preferred not to bother him when unable to sleep, but Hannibal didn’t need much sleep himself.  He also knew sometimes Will preferred to be alone with his thoughts.  He wouldn’t necessarily mind company, but he didn’t always want it.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	Svetlo

Hannibal was aware of the absence as soon as he woke. There was a peculiar, expectant silence to it. Although he didn’t need the confirmation he still reached to the other side of the bed, unsurprised to find it empty. Rolling over, he looked at the clock on the bedside table: 3:14am. 

Hannibal stared at the ceiling, debating whether or not to get out of bed. He knew Will preferred not to bother him when unable to sleep, but Hannibal didn’t need much sleep himself. He also knew sometimes Will preferred to be alone with his thoughts. He wouldn’t necessarily mind company, but he didn’t always want it.

Rolling to the edge of the bed, Hannibal grabbed his pajama pants from he floor and pulled them on, momentarily considering how much it should have bothered him that his pants had been discarded on the floor and left there. And yet it didn’t. 

The hotel suite they were in consisted of two rooms, one with a king bed and the other a sitting area of sorts with a coffee table, couch and armchair. There was a small balcony off of the sitting area. It was modest by Hannibal’s standards, though admittedly a fairly nice room with more space than was normal for hotels in this part of the world. And Will seemed to like it. He had also argued, convincingly, that getting a (relatively) modestly priced hotel room wouldn’t draw attention and they were trying to lay low. And although Hannibal would have preferred to show Will the finest the world had to offer - as well as bed him in it, since that was now an option - he had acquiesced. It was a logical argument, and Will seemed mostly happy with the current arrangement. And if Will was happy Hannibal was happy. He pursed his lips. Being happy because someone else was happy was still a foreign sensation.

Hannibal padded into the sitting area. No Will, although the bottle of whisky was sitting on the coffee table and one of the glassed they’d been drinking from earlier was missing. Correctly assuming Will was on the balcony, Hannibal picked up the other glass, poured himself two fingers, and moved to join him. 

Will was leaning into the railing, back rounded, glass of whiskey cradled in his hands. The balcony was just large enough for the both of them to stand in comfortably. 

Hearing Hannibal, Will straightened. “Did I wake you?”

“Your absence woke me,” Hannibal said, honestly. “Do you want company?”

Will looked him over, taking in the glass of whiskey and his clear intention of staying and smiled broadly, amused. He arched an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”

His tone was teasing, but Hannibal responded seriously, “You always have a choice. If you wish to be alone, I will go back in.”

Will laughed softly, musically, and Hannibal felt the heat that always seemed to accompany that laugh pooling in his stomach. It had been such a rare thing for so long. He smiled, fondly.

“What?” Will asked. 

“I enjoy hearing you laugh,” Hannibal said. He didn’t think about it before he admitted it; didn’t consider the potential impact. He found that, around Will, he censored his thoughts and feelings less and less, instead allowing instinct and honesty to guide him. The vulnerability was oddly thrilling and had not been without its rewards. 

The first time Will kissed him was after he admitted to an intense dislike for raisins. Will had laughed then, too, disbelieving. After all, he was fairly certain Hannibal had served him dishes with raisins in them before. To which Hannibal had explained, patiently, that if raisins were an important ingredient in the dish they would of course have been included.

Will had grinned broadly, the smile pulling at the scar on his cheek and making him all the more radiant. That smile and the mirth in his eyes was an image Hannibal had revisited in his memory palace for weeks after the event. He visited less now, when he was gifted with it more often in daily life. 

Approaching Hannibal slowly, Will had teased him, “that’s you all over, Doctor Lector. Unwilling to compromise the integrity of the dish by leaving out an ingredient, even if it’s one you hate.”

Hannibal had been about to craft a reply about the importance of tradition and maintaining the intended flavor of the dish, but any thoughts he might have had disappeared when he felt Will’s lips on his. He was pretty sure time stopped. His breathing and his heart most definitely stopped. 

The bashful but definitely pleased look on Will’s face after the kiss was another image he visited frequently. He could see it now, superimposed over the Will in front of him, as he could the image of Will who had clawed and fought his way back to him to appear at the Uffizi. 

Will had turned back to the railing, looking out over the city and Hannibal took the opportunity to look him over, memorizing the little details again. He was a contrast of light and dark; deep brown curls framing pale skin, dark lashes that fluttered over the same when he blinked. Blue eyes that seemed to change color and hue depending on the light. The ever present stubble kept in an attempt to make the scar on his cheek less noticeable. Behind it all a mind constantly in motion, often warring against itself, unique and intelligent. 

It was clear despite his posture that Will wasn’t taking in the sights but had retreated into his mind. It was something Hannibal found fascinating to watch. There was a stillness to him, but it would be betrayed by the smallest movements on his face: a slight furrowing of the brow, the corner of his mouth twitching, the smallest crinkling of his nose. 

“Are you memorizing me?” Will asked without turning. 

“Yes,” Hannibal responded. Always. He savored each detail. 

“Are you going to sketch me again later?” Will stood, but didn’t turn. 

“Possibly,” Hannibal said. “I enjoy sketching you.” He moved closer, putting his arm around the other man’s waist to pull him tight and place a kiss on his temple. 

“Last time I was here I was a young man,” Hannibal said. 

“Has it changed much?” Will asked. 

Hannibal smiled. “Change is inevitable. But there are things that remain. It was always full of light, even in the middle of the night, as it is now.”

“Light in the darkness,” Will murmured. He leaned into Hannibal. “I never thought I’d be here.” 

“I longed to show this to you.” 

“I know.” Will turned, then, placing his free hand at the base of Hannibal’s skull and pulling him in. The taste of whiskey mixed with Will’s own natural flavor, heightened by want, was intoxicating. The kiss was slow and purposeful and Hannibal felt it down to his toes. It was a feeling he’d heard about in the past and dismissed, having never experienced anything similar. Until now, when he felt he might literally dissolve into a pool at Will’s feet. 

Will broke the kiss and leaned into Hannibal’s chest, sighing softly. He had been searching for something, Hannibal knew, thought he wasn’t sure what or if he’d found it. There were parts of Will’s mind that were still - and perhaps would always be - impenetrable to him. If he was honest, that was part of the allure. Most people were so easy to know and understand. Will was complicated and surprising.

It wasn’t their first kiss, or their first embrace, but as Hannibal held him close he focused on the details: Will’s contented breathing, the way his hands were around Hannibal’s waist even though he still held the whiskey glass, his hand on the small of Will’s back, his own hammering heartbeat. Each feeling committed to memory. 

It had been a long time since Hannibal had feared loss, but he feared it now. He had wanted Will for so long, much longer than he liked to admit, and having him the way he did now was more than he had thought possible. He would have accepted and been grateful for much less, but this embrace, the kiss, their intimacy earlier in the evening . . . Hannibal knew he could not go back. He would do anything to protect Will, and anything to keep him. 

He’d been a fool to think what he felt for Will was mere inconvenience. He had caged himself for three long years because of it, believing that Will would return to him but never entirely certain. Despite the heady high he was currently feeling, it had the power to lay him low. Had laid him low. It was mesmerizing and terrifying, because it could easily destroy him. 

Any point at which he might have destroyed Will and avoided his own dismantling was long since past, and even in the moments he tried he had found that he could not. Maybe this was meant to be, the seeds of his destruction sowed years ago during their first meeting in Jack’s office. He hadn’t understood the draw then; hadn’t been able to acknowledge what his feelings meant or how they would transform him. He hadn’t seen that he was giving himself away piece by piece to this man. He hadn’t seen what he was receiving in return. 

Will pulled away from the embrace yawning slightly and tossing back the rest of his whiskey. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” he said, giving Hannibal a coquettish look. “Perhaps you can help me get back to sleep?”

Hannibal also drained the rest of his glass, eager to oblige. “Anything for you,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is curious I was actually envisioning them in a specific city (Prague), although not a specific hotel. I was in Prague many years ago and I remember thinking how beautiful it was at night, with the castle on the hill and the lights of the bridges reflecting off the water. Pretty sure I was up until at least 3am a couple of those nights, too, so the idea of it being that lite up in the middle of the night isn't far fetched. ;) (Although really that's true of any big city.) I originally described the city more before cutting it out because they are kind of in their own little bubble so location didn't seem terribly important. 
> 
> Also the thing about Hannibal disliking raisins was originally a lot longer (I cut that out and kept it separate -maybe I'll do something else with it? who knows) before I shortened it. I thought about taking it out completely. I'm still on the fence.


End file.
